Oh to be like Mary, Martha's sister

http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/041519.cfm
Isaiah 42:1-7
John 12-1-11

The revolutionary ways that Jesus acts reveals his holiness through simple, common encounters. He strategically turns the normal interactions of life into pivotal historic events. Jesus does this all the time, and the gospel writers return over and over again to reporting on him in daily situations —Jesus at meals, Jesus talking with both men and women, and Jesus traveling from one place to another. We watch him walk, talk, and behave like we're experiencing a vivid movie or radio or paperback script —actually all three at once —playing out in our heads and hearts. 

Many fathers of the Church preached about placing ourselves into scripture scenes to better grasp God's presence in the holy testaments, especially the New Testament Gospels. This scene at Martha and Mary's home In John, Chapter 12, challenges us to better understand how Jesus relates to all of us. He doesn't miss anything, conscious of all those both near to and far from him. This all encompassing and intense presence of Jesus upends misunderstandings. He clarifies truth with revolutionary impact. Jesus' presence can be better be revealed if we imagine ourselves with him in these gospel stories. 

By revolutionary impact I mean how Jesus brings an epochal, historic shift to all of our thinking and our behavior. He changed the way we think and relate to God, the way we think and relate to each other, and the way we think and act in time and space itself.

“Listen to me,” Jesus says. “This is important,” the Holy Spirit prompts us. “My Son will reveal me to you,” says the Father.

In today’s event at the home of Martha and Mary the stage is set for Jesus to confirm his upcoming sacrifice of life into death. We have read in Chapter 11 about Lazarus being raised from the dead. We’ve heard about how important Martha and Mary are to Jesus. He loves them like his own sisters. We know about the apostles and the role Judas plays. As a frequent audience to this scene we also know Jesus is soon to die, then rise from the dead. We know the whole play. Jesus will engage all of these people present in this scene to establish his body, his Church, for all time. 

Even though we appear as just readers, just an audience, we are actually part of the story, too. If we place ourselves within the scene, we can take turns playing almost all of these roles. We know these people, because we've acted out the roles of almost all of them.

This scene of Martha, Mary, Lazarus, Judas, the disciples, and the Jewish hierarchy is similar to so many scriptural Gospel scenes we know. Jesus engages in relationship with people at every level of human activity — at the temple, at a well, with the wealthy, and at the healing pool. He meets one on one, and crowd upon crowd in both villages and cities. He stands in court, and hangs on the cross for all of us to see. The confluence of the major players in Jesus life are gathered around over and over again, every detail so important for us to reflect upon.

• Martha and Mary - unmarried sisters - they, with Lazarus, are Jesus' adopted family.
• Lazarus - already risen from the dead is alive again and sharing a meal with his close friend, Jesus.
• Judas the Iscariot - called out as a thief - is identified as the political, financial, and power-based antagonist in the saga of Jesus’ ministry.
• Disciples - many are probably here at this meal too, including the apostles, because Judas is on hand. 
• Followers - the curious, the crowds, the original social media hordes.
• Pharisees - always in the picture, standing out more than the Sadducees, directing the Scribes.
• Us - the hearers, the readers — two millenia of believers - we number in the billions.

More players, however, are involved than just the four main characters.

Jesus’ teaching, admonishing, and nurturing of the disciples takes place on a constant basis. They were extensions of himself, saints in the making. He has more to reveal to them, specifically at this family meal so close to the crucifixion.

In addition, we have Jesus’ curious followers, always seeking him out. They’re just outside the house. Who knows how many? They are described as a large crowd. That may mean hundreds. The viral nature of Jesus’ popularity stemmed from more than charisma and mystique. He performed life-changing miracles. He taught from inside the scriptures, revealing truths seemingly hidden from the Jewish people for several millennia. The crowds that followed him, rushed to hear him, touched him, and begged him to touch them. They all had an uncontrollable need to be near Jesus.

Plus, we most likely have secret scribes sent by the Pharisees among the fawning crowd. They are sent to gather information on how to kill Lazarus, calculating the full range of possibilities that would work out to the Jewish leader’s advantage. This is an added effort, a new element on how to further the plot against Jesus. The Pharisees have already determined Jesus must be eliminated due not just to his popularity but the “revolutionary” impact he is having upon the Jewish land, the Torah, and the definition of the Messiah, the Christ.

Jesus' Jewish revolution, as understood by the Pharisees, is important to this scene we watch. The revolution begins with Jesus as the Messiah. He’s the one spoken about throughout Jewish history. The time has finally come; but Jesus' validity as the Christ is suspect. So many have made the claim to be the Messiah. 

Second, Jesus calls himself the "Word." He initiates a shift from the physical Torah, a holy but dusty scripture, into his divine presence as the focus of the Word. The Word is alive. Jesus is sent by God and resets the language of the Word, the scrolls they have read for millennia. The Torah is not just an ancient holy book. Jesus is written on every page. He lives. He is holiness itself in the presence of the coming King. 

And also, Jesus extends the light of God to the Gentiles, rattling the parochial nature of their faith. The time of the Gentiles breaks the borders of the land, inviting everyone to hear and follow the Messiah. The Jews are the light to the world, and Jesus has lifted the basket covering the candle. It’s time to shine, and Jesus is that candle, the full specter of truth and love in their midst, exploding them into all of creation. This is certainly a difficult revolution for what the Pharisees consider their stewardship boundaries of land, interpretation of the Torah, and who would be the Messiah.

Finally, there is another set of people in this scene. They are us, the readers, the burgeoning cast of believers continually growing in numbers and experiencing each and every interplay of Jesus within the tales of scripture. We are hearing just as the disciples heard. The Holy Spirit prompts and teaches us as if we are there, because the Word has been written on our hearts. We know the Father loves us, and we pay close attention to what Jesus is telling us.

So, here's the scene. It begins with perfume.

Lazarus stunk badly when he was risen from the dead. His body had been prepared for burial when he died. The anointing of Jesus' feet points back to that image of Lazarus walking out of the grave. Mary begins the anointing, while Jesus is alive. As Mary anoints Jesus’ feet the house is filled with the aroma of the perfumed oil. Everyone watches with a bit of shock and stunned concern. Mary is thanking Jesus for her brother’s renewed life, but by Jesus’ comments many scholars believe Mary has understood Jesus’ teaching about his upcoming death. She is beginning the preparation of Jesus’ death. Judas speaks out first. He breaks the awkward silence with a crass comment.

"Why was this oil not sold for three hundred days' wages and given to the poor?"

Jesus responds to Judas berating Mary’s wasting of the expensive oil with sharpness and emphasis. Everyone hears, but does not know fully what Jesus is saying. Judas further retreats from Jesus.

So Jesus said, "Leave her alone.
Let her keep this for the day of my burial.
You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me." 

Lazarus, risen as a sign of Jesus’ own rising to come, sits among all of them. The Jewish leaders have been flummoxed over this amazing act, unable to contain the impact of both the celebrity and homage shown to Jesus. The household of Jesus friends and disciples know the crowd outside make the desire of an assassination more likely. Everyone knows where Jesus and Lazarus are. Lazarus probably imagines the worst, dying again, this time with violence.

Why is Judas here? Because Jesus knows who he is, and eventually so will everyone else.

He said this not because he cared about the poor
but because he was a thief and held the money bag
and used to steal the contributions.

Mary had earlier identified Jesus as “Lord” when he arrived in Bethany after Jesus died. She is the one who also sat at Jesus’ feet when he taught the disciples. She has a unique understanding about Jesus' divinity. She didn’t ask anyone about anointing Jesus at her home. She just did it. “You do not always have me.”  She knew what was already coming.

We, the observers poised in this scene can be any of these four main character actors — Martha, or Judas, or Mary, or even Lazarus. How often are we more concerned about our needs, our lives, like Judas? Can you see yourself as the one chastising the frivolity of others, the revere shown to someone without regard for expense? 

Or, we are just like Lazarus, healed in ways only possible from a loving God, and yet we find our good fortune simply a pause in the inevitable ending of death to this life? We, similar to Lazarus, are embroiled in our own thoughts. Probably worried about our death more than the love and life of our brother Jesus.

Maybe we more easily fall into the routines of Martha. She is busy making sure everyone has something to eat. She serves the guests, asking if they are comfortable. Is there anything else they need? Folks need tending to, and she's been at the task probably for the whole day.

The disciples and apostles are scattered about the dinner table, maybe sitting outside on the porch keeping watch. They are guests here, waiting for the next adventure as Jesus gets closer and closer to Jerusalem. Amid the respite from their travels and pondering on Jesus' words they now have another thing to think about. What's next? Is Jesus really going to be killed? Is this whole adventure going to end in violence?

Perhaps we're like the observing and breathless crowd. We watch from afar, emotionally engaged, but not really a disciple. We run from one place to another, like attendees at a golf match, hurrying from one hole to another to catch a glimpse of greatness. What's Jesus going to do next, and how will the Pharisees deal with him?

Could we be one of the Scribes, sent to spy on Jesus, to watch the patterns of Lazarus? Are we lackeys of the ruling order? Do we follow orders that seem too controlling, but we just do our job? Would Jesus know us, too?

Or, maybe, hopefully, we are like Mary, prescient enough to recognize that the Christ is here and is going to change everything for the good. Mary bravely celebrates his power, knowing Jesus' ability to raise her brother from the dead. That's part of it. She is gracious, surely, reaching for the expensive perfume without concern for what anyone else thinks. More importantly, though, she knows this divine Lord will do what he says he will do. He will change everything. She acknowledges who he is, celebrates his presence, puts herself once again at Jesus’ feet. 

Many of the disciples are probably like Mary, convinced he is the Messiah, but not quite as committed as her. She is all in. Most likely, our lives may better fit one of the others. No matter how many times I replay this scene, and take on these roles, I keep coming back to Mary. I love her unabashed simplicity. She has won over Jesus' heart because she knows who he is.

We are all in different places. The revolution, however, is still taking place. God was made flesh. Jesus is the living, resurrected Word. The World is being restored, turned back into his Kingdom. We are now part of that kingdom.

Oh, to be like Mary.